Chance
by Voodooling
Summary: "Every smile you give him tears at my organs, every fleeting touch you give him gives me chills of desire for your hands to rack my body." RusCan


The soft fuzz of a ballad filled the steamy air. Droplets of condensation clung to every possible surface. A rhythmic melody of streaming water mingled with the music, engulfing the tiny bathroom. A warm forehead rested gently upon cold tiles, damp, golden lashes fluttered shut.

Matthew's mind was a haze of memories of recent interactions. What was it that made him think of _him? _Was it the gentle sunset light filtering through the half shut blinds? Was it the soulful voice of Adele that was in the air? Or was it the thundering water that rushed against his back? No matter what it was, it caused him to stand in his shower in a daze, his fingers pruning and his mind dwelling upon a certain Russian man.

Matthew pushed his cheek against the tiled wall, gasping slightly at the coolness. The sharp contrast of the wall and the heated water made his senses tingle. Was this what it felt like to be held by _him_? Slender fingers caressed the chilling wall, amethyst eyes followed their trail. Soulful melodies continued to pervade the air.

The emotion that welled in his chest was overwhelming. He felt almost obsessive as he gripped closer to the wall, craving for feelings that reminded him of the cold skin of Ivan.

As the music grew to a thundering crescendo, a sharp knock on the bathroom door jerked Matthew out of his trance. He quickly turned off the water and stumbled out of the shower. The music fell back into pianissimo, and then the song ended.

"Dude, you've been in there for an hour man! And Adele, seriously?"

Matthew quickly scrambled out of the shower and turned off his CD player. He ran his fingers through his hair before answering his brother through the door.

"Alfred, I was enjoying a soothing shower". He could hear his brother sniggering behind the door.

"Or, you were fantasizing about Ukraine and her big tits. Bow chika wow wo-"

"Alfred! Don't talk about her like that, she's like a sister to me! Ew!" He could hear his brother laughing.

"Well, hurry and get out of there bro, meeting's in an hour."

Matthew didn't move until the sound of his brother's receding steps faded away. He sighed before staring at his reflection in the mirror.

_I'm pathetic._

* * *

><p>The clock ticked slowly, as if time was going in reverse.<p>

The sound of pens scratching upon paper was loud, oh so _loud_, Matthew thought he was going to go insane.

There was a monotone voice speaking somewhere, _anywhere_, but he could not trace it, it seemed so far away.

His eyelids drooped, fatigue racked his body, and he could no longer focus on what he was doing seconds before.

He had never been tired at a meeting before. Quite contrary, he was always alert and scribbling down notes at every meeting he'd been to. However, lately he hadn't been sleeping well.

There were certain things that happened in his sleep, and they always ended up with him waking up with a jerk in the middle of the night, and unable to fall back to sleep.

Tired eyes searched before settling their gaze on graceful fingers. Large, but slender fingers gripped a pen in a way that seemed like a caress, and moved so gracefully across the page that they seemed to float upon air. Matthew trailed his gaze from porcelain fingertips up strong arms, across broad shoulders, beyond the chiselled jaw line and to their destination.

Ivan's face was serene as always, his violet eyes flickered between his notes and the speaker, a small, almost comical smile graced his lips.

_Those lips._

"Mr. Williams, would you please update us of the current affairs in Canada?" Matthew blinked out of his stupor and turned to Hong Kong.

"Ah, er, yes". He picked up his notes and cleared his throat.

* * *

><p><em>Flick. Click. Fffff…..<em>

Matthew removed the cigarette from his lips, letting out a slow puff towards the grey skies. The soft pattering of rain surrounded his senses, the moisture clung to his being. He leaned against the wall, his gaze steady as he watched the endless stream of cars whizzing by. He brought the cigarette back up to his lips and took another deep drag, before letting out the puff of smoke yet again.

"Matvey."

Matthew turned his face slightly, and watched as Ivan walked smoothly towards him. The Canadian reached into his pocket and fished out his pack of Marlboros and offered it to the Russian. Ivan took one and nodded a thanks. Matthew flicked his lighter on and Ivan leaned in to light the cigarette. He shivered as Ivan's warm breathe reached his fingers.

"I didn't know you still smoked, Matvey." Ivan leaned back and took a puff from the cigarette.

"Well, it's hard to kick the habit."

Ivan hummed in agreement, before taking another puff from his cig. The rain continued to patter around them, and they stood in a comfortable silence as they watched various nations leave the building.

It was Matthew who broke the silence first.

"How have you been, Ivan?" Ivan looked at him from the corner of his eye, then smiled.

"I've been good. I take it you've been good too, da?"

Matthew nodded, and took a puff from his cig. "Things have been ok, Alfred's being a pest as usual."

"Ah, he has a habit of doing that." Matthew turned to look at the Russian.

"I'm surprised you can put up with him."

"He has his moments."

Matthew lowered his gaze to the asphalt below.

"I heard from Alfred it's your five year anniversary. Congrats."

Ivan gave out a small laugh. Matthew couldn't help but to think how nice it sounded.

"Thank you Matvey."

"Planning on taking my brother anywhere?" Matthew watched as Ivan pondered thoughtfully.

"Da, I was planning on taking him somewhere warm, like Seychelles. "

"A nice warm retreat eh? " Matthew forced a smile on to his face. "My brother would love that."

A sleek, black car drove up and halted in front of them. The window was rolled down and Alfred's face could be seen.

"Hey Ivan! Hey Matty! Need a ride back to the hotel?" Matthew shook his head.

"I'm heading for the airport."

"What? Already? I thought you were staying for tonight's dinner party!"

"Nah bro, Harper needs me for something so I gotta rush back." He chuckled at the crestfallen look on his brother's face. "Don't be so down, you've got Ivan with you."

"But still! Bro we need to hang out more."

Matthew dropped his cig on the floor and stepped on it. "We will soon Alfred, don't worry." With that, he walked away from the two to fetch a taxi.

* * *

><p>Matthew never understood why people thought oils were toxic. He never felt light-headed when he painted with oils.<p>

But today he felt surreal as he crouched by the dim light, applying layers upon layers of paint on to the canvas before him.

Maybe it was the heat.

With one final stroke, he gave out a little sigh and placed his paintbrush beside him. He looked up and scanned his surroundings.

Paintings of every size adorned the walls. Between the canvases and frames were hundred of polaroids. Each image was of a different scene, a different angle, a different emotion.

But they were all about one single subject.

Matthew looked back down at the painting he had just completed. It was a painting of Ivan, leaning against a wall taking a drag form a cigarette. Rendered in sfumato, it gave the large Russian a sense of mystery.

This painting will soon join the many that had already been hanged in this room. He realized he was quickly running out of space. Maybe he needed a larger basement…

The soft sound of _pitter patter_ reached Matthew's ears, and he tore his gaze from the painting. Kumajirou sauntered towards him, curiosity peaked.

"Kumajiji, did you have a nice nap?" The spirit bear reached the Canadian and nuzzled against his masters leg.

"Who?" Matthew smiled.

"Canada"

"Ah."

Matthew softly ran his fingers through his companion's fur, feeling the soft fibers against his skin. Kumajirou lazily looked over at the painting.

"Again?" Matthew smiled.

"We were smoking together in the rain, Kumakuka. He looked so good with that cigarette hanging from his lips."

"Obsession too long. Should act now." Matthew frowned.

"I can't just confess to him! He's… He's Alfie's…"

"So?" Matthew paused.

"So… I… can't? I can't… right?" Kumajirou looked up to his master.

"What stopping?"

Matthew looked at his pet. He thought carefully.

_What's stopping him?_

* * *

><p><em>Moscow is beautiful.<em>

Matthew stood in front of the conference building, a small smile on his lips. He was an hour early, so he decided to stay outside and just enjoy the beauty of the city.

The buildings.

The people.

The culture.

_The land._

The snow on the ground was fresh; The snow shone with so much beauty Matthew had no words to describe it. It was cold, but he was used to such things.

The sound of an opening door caught Matthew's attention. He looked behind him and saw Ivan walking out of the building. The Russian saw Matthew, a look of surprise on his face.

"Matvey, what are you doing out here in the cold? Come inside."

"I'm fine Ivan. I'm just admiring the scenery. Your country is beautiful."

Ivan seemed to be taken aback by the comment. Then, he cleared his throat.

"Why, thank you Matvey."

They stood in an awkward silence. Finally, Matthew turned around, eyes averted to the side.

"My brother is very lucky." And with that, Matthew walked past Ivan and into the building.

Matthew noticed something different between his brother and Ivan.

It was lunch break, and most of the nations had gone out for lunch. However, a few lingered in the small cafeteria. Two of them were Alfred and Ivan.

Mathew sat in his corner by the window like he always did, a cup of coffee on the table in front of him and a newspaper held in front of his face. Every so often he would peek beyond the newspaper to the pair on the other side of the room.

They seemed… _Closer._

Before the change they had a rocky relationship. One day, Alfred would rant on and on about all the great things Ivan did for him. The next, he would be complaining about the most minor things in their relationship. But now, after their trip to Seychelles, they seemed _different._

And it hurt him.

He watched as Alfred babbled on about something, probably something stupid. Ivan had his head propped up by one hand, his other gently holding on to Alfred's.

Ivan looked so enamoured by Alfred.

It sickened him.

Kumajirou's words swam within his head. What really is keeping him from snatching Ivan away? Sure, Alfred was his brother, but what did that mean? It wasn't like Alfred was innocent. Alfred had taken so much from him as well. Matthew did all the dirty work during the word wars and Alfred took the spotlight from him. Matthew tried his best to be the perfect son but England favoured Alfred. Matthew is proud of his multicultural identity, and of all the accomplishments his people have achieved. But all of these things have been overshadowed by Alfred.

_So why can't I be selfish just this once?_

* * *

><p>"Matvey, are you home?"<p>

Ivan rung the door bell again. Alfred had been worried lately about Matthew. Apparently he was becoming more distant, more cold, and no matter how much he tried he couldn't find out why. Alfred had asked Ivan to go find out for him, seeing as how Matthew and him were good friends.

Well, they were, but not so much recently.

Ivan wasn't sure exactly when his friend started becoming distant. Throughout history they had been good acquaintances, and their real friendship began after Canada won the Hockey Summit Series against him in 1972. They respected each other after that game, got to know each other, and became good friends despite Alfred's protests.

When exactly did their friendship fall apart?

Ivan reached for the doorknob and turned.

The door was open.

He walked in carefully.

"Hello, Matvey?" Rustling sounds could be heard, and Ivan looked off to the side. Kumajirou appeared around the corner.

"Ah, Kumajirou! I'm guessing Matvey isn't home right now, da?"

The bear paused, as if deep in thought. Then, he went up to the Russian and tugged gently on his pant leg with his teeth.

"Follow."

Ivan followed the spirit bear down the hall, wondering where he was being led to. Was Matthew hurt? Or…

Kumajirou halted in front of a door. Ivan stared at it. Was it there last time he was in here? He vaguely remembered that something had been in front of it before…

Kumajirou nudged him towards the door. Was he supposed to open it? Cautiously, Ivan reached for the handle and turned. He opened the door, and there was a staircase that spiralled downwards.

He slowly walked down the steps. When he reached the bottom, there was a turn. He walked towards it.

And then he turned around the corner.

And he stopped.

Light trickled in from a single small window high on the wall near the ceiling. All around him were paintings and photographs.

_All of himself._

Each image was slightly different. A different emotion, a different angle, a different pose, a different location.

But they were all images of himself.

It all clicked together. Matthew avoiding him, avoiding Alfred. Those glances Matthew gave whenever Ivan was with Alfred were real, they weren't his imagination. Matthew's odd side comments. Matthew's behaviour around them. Matthew's intense gaze whenever he looked at him.

It all made sense.

He walked towards the opposite wall. His gaze trailed from photograph to photograph. Photos of him at a conference party, in the cafeteria, on the street, at a hockey game.

And then his eyes trailed to a certain oil painting.

It was him, smoking a cigarette in the rain. It was beautifully rendered, but what caught his eye was the expression on his face in the painting.

In the painting he was staring straight back out at the viewer, a look of unbearable want on his face.

Did Matthew translate his own feelings in Ivan's expression in the painting?

A timid cough broke the silence in the room. Slowly, Ivan turned around.

It was Matthew.

Matthew was standing there.

Matthew was looking at him.

Matthew was smiling.

"A gentleman knocks and waits to be let into a home."

"I am no gentleman." Ivan paused. "Your bear let me in." Matthew's smile seemed to be one of hysteria.

"Oh, did he now? Then I guess it's quite alright." He walked towards Ivan, his footsteps held purpose. Ivan gulped, unsure of what to do.

Matthew stopped in front of Ivan, his expression flitting between many emotions.

"How.. How long?" asked Ivan. Matthew looked down, his fingers fidgeting.

"Every since I could remember."

Ivan gave no response.

"I- I didn't want to tell you because we finally became friends, so I though it'd be fine to just act as if I felt nothing. It was great, we were close, everything was fine. But then you started dating _him._ You have no idea how I felt when Alfred told me. You have no idea."

"Matve-"

"I don't know how it began, but I thought if I could capture every aspect of you in images I could pretend you were with me when I entered this room." He laughed. "But nothing I make can compare to the real thing."

Matthew lifted his gaze and stared right into Ivan's eyes. His lips twitched as he smiled.

"Every kiss I've seen you give my brother has been branded upon my beating heart, every smile you give him tears at my organs, every fleeting touch you give him gives me chills of desire for your hands to rack my body."

Ivan hesitantly took a step back. Matthew took a step forward.

"Why is it so easy to love the enemy, but not the ally?"

Ivan took another step back. Matthew again stepped forward. A lone tear ran down his cheek.

"It may be too late to change your mind now but it's not too late for me to take my chance."

* * *

><p>A thud could be heard, followed by the sound of someone falling over. Kumajirou could smell the faint scent of blood in the air.<p>

He went over and pushed the door closed. He sat in front of the door, as if to keep guard.

_If master is happy, I am happy._

* * *

><p><strong>I think I'm going to stick with writing one-shots, it's more my thing. Well, I hope you guys enjoyed this story, It had been in my mind for a while.<strong>

**R&R much appreciated! Love you all. Peace.**

**- Kei**


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